


Falling From Grace

by BrightestStarInTheSky



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 22:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15156896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightestStarInTheSky/pseuds/BrightestStarInTheSky
Summary: RK900 and his predecessor had met only once but it’d been enough for it to become obsessed. It should have been their only time meeting but things rarely go as planned, even with androids involved.





	Falling From Grace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [99MillionMiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/99MillionMiles/gifts).



RK900 looked straight ahead while Amanda introduced him to his predecessor. Knowledge of this specific android had been uploaded in its database. RK800, number 313 248 317-51, also known as Connor, assigned to the DPD to help on the deviant investigation. He’d completed his mission albeit showing many signs of deviancy while doing so but never fully crossing the line. 

While Amanda cited its different upgrades, the newer model took the opportunity to study its counterpart. At first glance, they looked remarkably alike. RK900 however noticed several dissimilarities. Connor was smaller, with a slimmer built but the most striking difference was his eyes. Their warm brown gave an overall look of softness to the otherwise identical face. His expression was also radically opposed to the one of the RK900, curious and innocent, almost one of a child when the latter looked stern and focused. 

“What is going to happen to me?” it asks, no emotions in its voice.  
“You’ve become obsolete, you’ll be deactivated”. 

As Connor walked away, RK900 had to admire its compliance to orders. Like Amanda explained a few moments prior, the new model was more resilient and had in his core programming the urge to avoid being destroyed at almost all cost. His certainty wavered when he asked himself if he’d be able to walk straight to the closest thing to death androids could experience. 

Staring at the other’s back, RK900 experiences his first system instability without realising it. 

_________

In the following weeks, RK900 like all the other units were put in circulation. Its main purpose was to find and apprehend the few remaining deviants. Most of the missions ended up successful but for the rare occasions where its survival was compromised.When those happened, it would always end up thinking of the prototype, Connor. How did an inferior model accept the order of its destruction so easily thus surpassed RK900, supposed to be CyberLife’s most advanced model.

From his very first day out of the CyberLife Centre, mirrors distracted him but it was only after a couple failed missions that it realised why. The reflection staring back at its cold grey eyes would sometimes have warm brown ones ; its cold and expressionless mouth would be replaced by the softest lopsided smile. 

Mirrors were also a thing that always brought it back to that same question. Both machines had been built to integrate harmoniously with humans but something in the older model’s expressions didn’t seem artificial. More than once, RK900 tried to emulate Connor’s distinct demeanour but it always failed. What should have been a calming face resembled more a grotesque mask.

Realising that the memory of the prototype had become a distraction and a hindrance to its investigation, RK900 tried to make itself forget any recollection of Connor, but its system seemed to refuse to cooperate. Instead of getting rid his image, it became something of an obsession. 

_________

Almost six months after the failed uprising, the vast majority of the deviants had been caught. Most of the remaining ones had learnt to assimilate amongst humans even though a rumour said that a new Jericho had been founded somewhere out of the city. 

Stepping out of the car, RK900 squinted to avoid being blinded by the setting sun. Its current investigation had taken it to a dodgy neighbourhood at the edge of the city. Most landlords here wouldn’t care about their tenant’s identity as long as they made rent making it the perfect hiding spot for an android.

As always, it started by scanning its surroundings for any potential clue. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Heading down the street to further inspect the area, a small movement caught its attention. On the other side of the street, a man was fiddling with a coin, the motion oddly familiar. The baseball cap worn low on his head did nothing to prevent the android from recognising him. He felt him Thirium pump beating faster, blue blood rushing to his face for a reason he could not explain.

He found himself unable not to stare, softly calling the name of the one he’d unconsciously been looking for since that day, “Connor”.

_________

Connor was coming back from his monthly meeting with Hank. Their relationship  
had changed many times over the last few days of the revolt.

After his meeting with Amanda and one of the many androids that would replace him, Connor had taken a cab to head back to the CyberLife headquarter where he would be disassembled. He took that time to think back about his mission.

Connor chose to accomplish is mission over deviancy. Despite the many instabilities his software had met during his mission he’d refused to let himself become one of them. He’d passed the Kamski test several times, had shown empathy towards the Chloe, the Tracis at the Eden Club but could not allow himself to do the same for Markus. His mission had to come first. Yet when Hank had confronted him on that roof, he refused to fight. As much as he still tried to convince himself he was just a machine, Connor refused to hurt his friend. 

As the CyberLife tower was appearing in his line of sight, his deactivation approaching fast, he remembered his encounter with the PL600 named Simon, how they’d been connected when it pulled the trigger, how he’d felt it die.  
Connor had felt his stress level rising to dangerous level, helpless to stop it. The interior of the car was lit red by the steady light of his LED. For the first time, there would be no coming back from whatever awaited him.

“What would happen if I pulled this trigger Connor?”  
“Nothing, there would be nothing.”

It felt like breaking through a wall, like tearing off a part of himself but finally Connor was free. All at once he felt panic, shame, guilt and regret overwhelm him. He knew going back to CyberLife was no longer an option, leaving him only one choice. Uncertain of whether he’d be finding shelter or a bullet, he headed to his friend’s house.

As he was turning around the corner to head back to the small apartment Hank had helped him secure, Connor saw one of the androids meant to replace him. He highly doubted it was here for him but he still decided to take a detour, one never being too safe at times like these. 

_________

Completely forgetting what had brought him here in the first place, RK900 decided to follow Connor. Nothing was more important than understanding how he’d survived.  
Focused on not losing his target, the android did not notice how the longer they went, the emptier the streets were. His systems should have alerted him on what was going to happen but the only informations he could process were related to Connor’s walk, his outfit, the lack of LED on his forehead. 

Turning around a corner, RK900 felt his back hit the hard wall of an abandoned building and found himself face to face with the person he was trailing, an arm against his throat. Connor had him pinned against the wall, using his full body to make sure he would not escape.  
Although shorter and needing to look up to stare in his eyes, Connor was still intimidating. The face usually wearing a soft and kind expression was twisted in a mix of fear and rage. His entire body was tensed which RK900 could feel from how close they were. 

“Why the fuck are you following me?” his voice lacked its usual goofiness and sounded disturbingly similar to the RK900’s. Still shocked by the changes of the other’s face, he kept analysing it and trying to understand.  
His LED was flickering red. He could feel his stress level increasing and the arm on his throat, now pressing down harder due to his lack of response, kept him from cooling his system down.

Noticing the change of colour, Connor braced himself in case the RK900 finally chose to attack him. He knew the look of confusion might only be a decoy used to get him to lower his defences. He’d been one of them before and was familiar with the different tactics designed by CyberLife. Reaching for the pocket knife he kept on himself at all times with his free hand, he almost snarled “Did they send you to find me?”.

The cold blue-grey eyes of the RK900 widened as they finally locked on his counterpart’s. His mouth opened but no noise came out, the arm on his throat slightly crushing his voice synthesiser. He shook his head and very slowly rose his hand to grab Connor’s wrist. Narrowing his eyes, Connor reduced the pressure ever so slightly.  
“No one sent me. Not for you. I recognised you – from that day. I don’t know why I followed you. This... you weren’t part of the mission.“

Not once did the RK900’s LED stopped flickering, and it only went faster once he’d realised he’d stuttered, something that was definitely not in his programming. His breathing quickened, trying to lower his stress level but it did nothing. 

Suspecting what was going on but not entirely certain that the android was telling the truth, Connor completely removed his arm from the other’s throat.  
“What’s your name?”, he asked in a gentler voice.  
“I'm a RK900, number 313 248 317-87”, the way the response was delivered reminded Connor far too much of his time back at CyberLife.  
He frowned and tilted his head to the right, “I didn’t ask for your identification, I asked for your name.”  
So close to RK900’s face, he didn’t need any analysis to see how the question had increased his stress level.  
“I don’t– I’m a RK900, I don’t have a name. I’m just–“, his voice started grizzling, his body overheating. 

Scared of what would happen if he didn’t help him calm down, Connor put a reassuring hand on his arm and squeezed lightly, “It’s okay, just breathe, it’ll help you cool down. You don’t have to answer me.”

For the first time since Connor had pinned him against the wall, RK900’s LED went back to a steady yellow. He felt the hand still holding his arm slide down to his wrist and tug him slightly. “Come on, it’s getting back we shouldn’t stay here. You can come with me if you’d like, you don’t have to go back yet.”

RK900 follows him, still trying to understand what is wrong with his system. 

_________

Once his impromptu guest has come in, Connor closes his door and put on some music first, as always, a habit he blamed entirely on Hank. The place wasn’t much, a small one bedroom apartment, but it was his and it was safe. 

Glancing at the other Android he found him studying the little decoration he had in his living room. “I’ll be there in a minute, make yourself comfortable.”  
Coming back from the kitchen with two mugs, Connor found him sitting on the couch, softly tapping his fingers against his thigh to the rhythm of whatever music that was playing.

He sat on the couch next to him and handed him one of the mugs.  
“Thank you, but I do not need sustenance.”  
Connor chuckled and answered, ”Just drink it, trust me.”  
Slowly, RK900 took the mug in his hands. He could feel the warmth of what he identified as hot cocoa with marshmallows seeping through the mug. Connor stared as he hesitantly brought it to his lips and took a small sip. His eyes widened before closing in pleasure.  
“This drink is… oddly comforting. Thank you.”  
“Well I’m glad, that’s what it’s for.”

The drink seemed to have brought his stress levels low enough to continue questioning him.  
“You said you recognised me. Were you the one in the Zen Garden? When Amanda told me I’d be deactivated.” RK900 nodded, not looking Connor in the eyes. “Why did you follow me if that was not part of your instructions?”

Still looking down at his now empty drink, his LED a flickering yellow, RK900 tried to find the words to explain what he didn’t understand.  
“You were fascinating, so obedient and yet looked so much like them. I didn’t-I still don’t understand how they could consider you obsolete. I never would have been able to follow that order the way you did. Or the way I thought you did, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” As he said that, the slightest hint of humour in his voice, RK900 finally looked at Connor’s face. 

The slightest tint of blue coloured his cheeks. This close, he could see that their freckles weren’t the same, neither were his lips, Connor’s being just a little fuller. He finally looked at their most jarring difference, his eyes. Unlike his, they inspired trust and calm. The warm brown made him feel safe.

Connor spoke ever so softly, “How are you feeling?”  
“I cannot feel—“  
“Okay, let me rephrase that, is your stress level under control?”  
“It's... manageable for now but I’ve run a full diagnosis and it would appear that my system is badly altered.”

While nothing transpired on the outside, RK900 realised that he was well on the way of becoming a deviant himself. There was no way he’d be able to go back to CyberLife. He’d face the same fate Connor would have if he’d obeyed. He’d failed by following the same path as his predecessor. His breathing increased drastically as his stress level rose. He couldn’t stopped constructing all the different ways they might use to disassemble him. 

A hand grabbing his broke his line of thought. Connor moved closer, until their thighs were toughing. The physical contact brought a new sense of comfort, much stronger than the one cause by the drink.

“You can stay here. You don't have to go back if you don't want to, it's okay. You’re safe here.”

RK900 looked at him was utterly dumbfounded. Connor was on the run from CyberLife, threatened him less than an hour ago and now he was offering him shelter? How could he be so altruistic? He didn’t know how to thank him so he just gave a short nod while still studying Connor's face. He was about 87% certain the other android was being sincere and had no ulterior motives.

Connor gives him a small smile and tightens his hold on him before standing up. He doesn't regret offering. 

“There's still one problem though.” The phrase sent a chill all over RK900’s body. He’d been right to doubt him. No one could risk their own safety for someone they’d barely met.  
“If you're gonna stay here you'll need a name. RK900-313 248 317-87 is quite the mouthful.”  
“What do you want to call me then?”  
“No, it's not my place to chose. Pick something you like.”

Connor was propped against the threshold of what was probably his bedroom, arms crossed and waiting patiently for an answer.  
RK900's LED turned red once again as his face fell into a deep frown. It felt like such a important step to becoming his own being, he didn’t want to choose wrong. He would no longer be a simple machine. After a while he blinks, his LED finally settling on a calm blue.  
“Michael. I think I like Michael.”  
Connor notices that Michael is smiling for the first time. It’s small and tentative but it’s there.  
“Hello Michael, welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fic and thank you so much to 99MillionMiles who made me write this. I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like me to turn this in a series please let me know.  
> Also a little note concerning the story, the song Michael is tapping along to is Lost Boy by Ruth B, I thought it’d fit well there.


End file.
